


Night Shift

by Shockcakes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Demons, F/M, Femdom, Humor, Monsters, Porn With Plot, Smut, Succubi & Incubi, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shockcakes/pseuds/Shockcakes
Summary: After a surprise visit from an old not-at-all-friend, Morgana finds herself taking over for her...work duties. The problem? Those duties involving being a succubus.





	1. (Un)Happy Returns

Morgana whistled to herself. A rare instance. More often than not, she’d find herself going through some asinine ordeal for the sake of keeping her struggling potion-making business afloat.

Followed by repeated bleaching of her fur.

The cauldron before her bubbled a sickly green, boiling an elixir she recently dug up the recipe for. Morgana didn’t even know what it was for - what possible ailments it could treat or cure. What she _did_ know was that she finally had a moment of peace and quiet without having to prep up another contraceptive hex.

“One horn of stag,” she read from the aged book, tossing said ingredient into the mix. An orange-ish color lit up her apothecary. Morgana eyed the pot curiously. The witch was no stranger to crafting more…outlandish potions. A little bit of sparkling pixie dust here or some searing demon guts there, it took _a lot_ to surprise her. After all, she was an _expert_ in her craft.

Her future hordes of customers just didn’t realize it yet.

“Wings of silvermoth,”

Needless to say, this potion seems to be using up some of her rarer ingredients. The recipe itself was written in some indecipherable language she had yet to translate beyond the ingredients themselves. Perhaps she could fetch a good price for it.

“A pair of satyr’s cloves, and…”

With a careful hand, Morgana stirred the potion, watching its color shift to bright lavender.

“Done.”

Something about finishing a potion always felt relaxing to her. The practice required a trained mind and an excess of patience. A single slip or misjudgment could result in, at best, the wrong potion entirely. At worst, it ends up summoning a portal to the bovine dimension. The witch shuddered, forcing down those haunting memories of that accursed place.

Followed by repeated bleaching of her fur.

_So much milk…_

Refocusing herself to the task at hand, Morgana poured a small sample of the mixture into a flask. She swirled the thick ooze in the glass carefully, studying it intently.

_I still have no clue what this is._

Again, the bat glanced over the mess of unintelligible gibberish that held the recipe. Normally, deciphering arcane texts would be a simple process. Such wasn’t the case this time. Morgana was, above all, a witch; a brewmaster to concoct unique potions and mixtures in the pursuit of knowledge of the arcane.

Or when she had nothing better to do.

This time around, Morgana had to do this the old-fashioned way. She needed a guinea pig, something to test the potion’s effects (that preferably wasn’t her) so she could slap a name and a price tag and call it a day.

The witch scratched her chin, mulling to herself. “Wonder if I have any more test rats left…”

“Nah. Think I saw the last one run for the hills.”

“ _GAAAHHH_!!”

Virtually every strand of fur on her body immediately spiked up in surprise. Morgana barely had any time to process that there was another individual in her house. She did, however, register a loud shatter.

The colored mixture pooled on her wooden floor, an intense fume reaching her nostrils in seconds. Her black fur suddenly paled white.

“Oops.” Squeaked the guest speaker. “My bad!”

Her ears perked, suddenly detecting a familiar presence, a familiar tone of voice she didn’t think she would ever hear again.

Nor did she want to.

The witch turned to the stranger, eye twitching in annoyance as her mind hoped a prayed that her surprise guest was some nosy customer with teleportation abilities.

How misfortune favored her…

“Momo!”

Morgana shuddered as she heard that infernal pet name.

The figure before her was feminine, clad in what appeared to be a black leotard, its cleavage cut in a pentagram fashion that showed off more than enough skin. Matching thigh highs covered her firm legs almost like a second skin, even accentuating her demonic claw-like toes. Black gloves – at least Morgana assumed they were gloves - extended from her upper arm down to her talon-like fingers with a lone golden and purple band adorned on her arm. Her long, wavy hair was a blue-ish shade of white while her skin held a soft periwinkle color. At the top of her head, her hair mimicked what seemed to be devil horns while a thin demonic tail swirled behind her.

Succubus.

And not just any succubus.

_Nyssa._

Morgana prayed to every ancient force above that she never so much as think about that name for the rest of her days. Flashbacks to her younger years amid her alchemy schoolings popped into her mind, along with several unpleasant memories of her demonic classmate with absolutely zero sense of boundaries. The bright and perky personality that somehow hid a subtle superiority complex. Repeatedly rearing her unholier-than-thou horns _conveniently_ after any botched summoning spells or exploded potions. And with each instance of Nyssa looking so unbelievably perfect by comparison, whatever wand, glass, or staff would snap in two within Morgana's aggitated hands.

She had hoped that after graduation, the bratty little slore would buzz off into whatever tainted hellhole that spawned her so Morgana could pursue her business in relative peace.

Nyssa smiled cheerily, showing off her sharp pointed teeth, paying little heed to the daggers aimed from Morgana’s stare. “It’s been so long since we last-” the demon interrupted herself with a quiet ‘Oh’ as she stared at the witch. “You’re fat.”

The vein in her forehead almost popped.

_Call me fat again, you moronic, half-naked tiefling and see if I don’t shove my wand up your pretentious-_

“This is such a cute little shack you’ve built for yourself, Momo.” Nyssa levitated from the floor, no doubt thinking herself too superior to even allow her feet to touch anything she deemed substandard. “It…suits you.” She said with a cheeky grin. Morgana’s eyes rolled, mulling over how difficult it would be to summon an underworld portal to throw herself into. “But you know you really should consider getting the latest in...” Nyssa prattled on about furniture, cutting off any attempt for her “host” to respond while going on about only the latest in Victorian gothic table sets.

Morgana pinched her forehead. _Just_ when she thought she was going to have a nice quiet day to herself, God decides to shit in her breakfast once again. Perhaps one of – if not the most – obnoxious thing about Nyssa was that she absolutely loved hearing herself talk.

“…would really brighten up the place, wouldn’t you say?”

“ _I’d say you’re needed back on your knees in front of the sex-addled man-child who has the 50 cents needed to pay for your broken down junkpile of a body._ ” Is what Morgana would say. But…she didn’t.

In fact, she couldn’t say anything.

Why…couldn’t she say anything?

“Momo?” The annoyance looked at her curiously. Morgana’s mouth opened to speak yet no noise came. In total shock, the witch brought a hand to her muzzle as her eyes fell on the broken potion bottle to the floor. Nyssa followed her eyes as well. The two then made eye contact for a single moment, the succubus piecing together the situation soon after. She caught sight of the scroll containing the potion recipe lying next to Morgana.

The witch wheezed would-be as she tried to intercept Nyssa. That stupid flying trick had her beat, unfortunately. Nyssa quickly seized the scroll, hovering just above her range.

“Wow, Momo! I didn’t know you could translate ancient Tanir!”

_Ancient what now?_

“And you managed to craft a perfectly good _silence_ potion!”

_…A **what** potion?_

The corners of Nyssa’s mouth curved into a sinister grin. Morgana paled, her blood unexpected running cold.

“Well, seeing as how you’re currently busy right now, let me get straight to the point as to why I’m here.” She stretched in midair, laying in a relaxing position on top of nothing. “I was wondering if you could cover my shift for today. I could really use a break and seeing as how we’re such _close friends_ ,” Morgana’s eye twitched, unable to express any other means of her steadily growing ire, “I figured you could help a sister out. I could really use a nice break from the fucking and the fucking and the _fucking_. You don’t mind right?”

_YES, I MIND!_

_YES, I VERY MUCH DO MIND!!_

She briefly glanced at Morgana, still completely silent. “Ah right, you still can’t talk hmm? How about this then: if you’re completely available to take care of my shift for today and handle _all_ of my clients-”

_Clients?_

“- _say_ _nothing at all_.”

Off to the side, glass shattered, the noise unfiltered from the near deafening silence. Morgana stared at the devious courtesan in mortification, helplessly unable to do anything but the instruction she provided. Her mind reeled back as though she had just been clubbed upside the head.

“Great!”

Enthusiastic, Nyssa snapped her fingers. A puff of smoke emerging from absolutely nowhere engulfed them both. Morgana suddenly felt odd. Almost naked even. As though her robes and hat were subtlely stolen from her as she was wearing them. Once the smoke cleared, she was utterly horrified to discover that her garments were reduced to the same scant “outfit” that the succubus wore only now white, clashing with her dark fur.

Nyssa, on the other hand, was dressed in a more casual yet still fashionable pair of leggings and sweater that accentuated her gorgeous body type well. Her horns and tail were now suspiciously gone from her form.

She hummed to herself as the demon looked at her handiwork. Nyssa scratched her chin with a bit of uncertainty, focusing on the witch’s wide hips and meaty thighs. “I suppose the pudgy body type is the new in thing now anyway.” Morgana narrowed her eyes at that jab. “Well, what’s done is done! Check your cleavage for your list of clients!” She added cheerily, hovering away before the bat could decide on a last-ditch effort to strangle her when she had the chance. “Oh, and one more thing: succubi are always naturally wanting to get their brains fucked out so you _maaaay_ be leaking harder than a faucet in say about…now. Toodles!”

Morgana had virtually less than a minute to comprehend that sentence when a shooting not-quite-pain well up at her core. Her face flushed instantly, her hands grasping her now aching folds which were practically screaming for attention. The witch wordlessly fell to the floor, now powerless to stop the conniving devil from leisurely floating out the door.

After a few minutes of rising to her feet and regaining some form of her sanity, Morgana awkwardly reached into the canyon of her breasts surprisingly discovering the scroll Nyssa mentioned. With the sheer number of names written, the parchment rolled down the floor.

“Fuck.”

In accordance with the grand machinations of Fate and God’s Divine Plan (and the shitting in her breakfast once again), the silence potion wore off not a moment after the damned succubus faded into the night sky with a saucy wink. Morgana scrunched up her nose in disgust.

“AT LEAST GIVE ME MY CAPE YOU SIN EATING WRETCH OF A-“

Her vicious tirade ended with a dark curtain carelessly tossed over her head.

“…Bitch.”


	2. Rock and a Hard Place

Fingers weren’t working.

Virtually nothing was.

Morgana sat at her desk, eyes scanning every inch of the list of clients. She saw nothing about an address nor any means of actually getting to them.

“Leave it to a – _hhnnn –_ succubus to screw me – _mmm –_ over…” She huffed in frustration. Demons really were starting to piss her off. Morgana made a mental note to search through her family history. Someone somewhere down the line must have chopped off some poor hellspawn’s tail, otherwise, she wouldn’t be getting herself stuck in mess after humiliating mess. Now she has to play prostitute for a day or bang her head against the table until the concussions cancel out her overwhelming rutting urges.

Her tail twitched in agitation as her legs rubbed together. Was it always this hot in here? She felt like her entire bottom half was locked in a furna-

She has a tail.

With a spade on the end.

And horns.

Why did it take her this long to process that?

Morgana didn’t know what was worse; the transformation itself or the fact that it looked more like a cheap cosplay outfit.

“Can I just get _fucked_ already so this idiotic chore could be over and done with?” Something churned in the pit of her stomach just from saying that. Sex in itself wasn’t something she overtly craved – sex with random strangers, even _less_. She skimmed through the annoying list once more. “How does this even work? Do I get…summoned or something?”

Her ear twitched abruptly. From the corner of her eye, Morgana could see a thin crackle of energy. As if on command, the space in the middle of the witch’s shop suddenly housed an overcomplicated pentagram sigil. The portal beckoned to her, like a voice in the back of her head gutturally chanting in ancient languages of old.

_Your 11 PM appointment is ready._

Yet to her, the voice echoed with a certain nasally ring that reeked of the dull indifference present in the underpaid, overworked receptionists through all realities.

“How convenient…” Morgana deadpanned. “Well, Mr…” She quickly glanced at the “to-do” list, “Goggron the Golem King…you wanna fuck? Then let’s _fuck_.”

Morgana stepped towards the floating portal with dignity and grace.

A solid 2 seconds passed before she tripped on her recently gifted tail.

The first thing the bat succubus registered upon hitting the ground was that it wasn’t her wood floor. Rather, an even more painful intricately paved tiling. Morgana pieced together that she had indeed crossed the portal which undoubtedly meant that she had just eaten pavement and fallen into a particularly embarrassing pose with her barely clothed ass aimed directly upwards. Knowing her luck, the fortunate soul in the right place and the right time to catch her blunder would most likely be-

“ _LUST DEMON,_ _I REQUIRE YOUR SERVICES._ ”

Goggron the Golem King…

Her ears rang from the boisterous king. Picking herself off the floor, Morgana glanced upward, meeting the imposing monarch sitting atop his masterfully crafted throne of rock. True to his title, Goggron was a being made of primarily of stone, much taller than she was. His limbs appeared to be shaped from a smooth Obsidian while his torso seemed to be a much softer material. Clay possibly? His head was the most fascinating as Goggron’s face held no features, save for the glowing eyeball scrutinizing her from his seat. Even the mouth from which he made that commanding decree was curiously missing.

The literal inner demon residing within her mind forced her gaze downward where another being of stone awaited her attention. Well, he was certainly ready to go, no questions asked, she gave him that. The king’s shaft stood just as proudly as he did, holding a pleasing amount of size and girth. Morgana mentally thanked the almighty golem creators for not crafting them so giant that there would be problems regarding whether or not one would _fit_.

“Yeeeah,” Morgana droned. She found it increasingly hard. To focus. Yeah. Focus. “I can see that.”

Goggron’s eye squinted at her. “ _YOU ARE…NOT NYSSA._ ”

His already loud voice boomed across his empty throne room. An annoyance made even more problematic given Morgana’s naturally keen ears. “Do you _have_ to yell?”

“ _I-_ “ Another echoing boom. One that earned him an angered glare. The king caught himself, clearing his throat. “Apologies.” A much quieter and refined voice greeted the witch. “You are not Nyssa,” Goggron repeated.

Morgana’s blasted devil eyes kept staring at his dick. The cursed heat in her loins burned hotter. “Yeah well…I’m filling in.” Her legs fidgeted slightly. Her _tail_ swished enthusiastically on its own accord. The pesky limb tangled itself around her leg.

“Oh…” Goggron’s lacking face made it difficult to tell what emotions he had but Morgana could detect all she needed from that response alone.

She did not take too kindly to it. “ _Oh_?” She echoed back.

Goggron leaned back in his throne, intwining his rocky hands together and twiddling his thumbs. “I was erm…hoping that Nyssa would respond. I’ve been dealing with a…delicate manner as of late. One that requires the attention of one considered…more professional.”

“Is that _so_?” The vein in her forehead almost popped. Her teeth grit slightly at the mention of that infernal name. “And just what is this ‘delicate’ manner that requires attention?”

The golem king sank slightly, his eye depressingly staring at the floor. “My queen…she’s left me.”

Morgana blinked. “She le-you…what?”

He nodded sadly. His eye shifted to the empty throne across from his seat that Morgana dimly just now noticed. “I have been in a rather dejected state of affairs as of late. I had heard many recommendations of the demoness Nyssa and was hoping that perhaps she could,” Goggron cleared his throat, embarrassed, “…aid me.”

Morgana frowned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

_Am I seriously playing rebound booty call right now?_

“Alright,” she began dryly, “you want someone to get your rocks off? FINE.” It was shameful, downright humiliating that she had to stoop this low but at the moment, Morgana really couldn’t have cared any less.

With now infuriated conviction, Morgana approached the stressed king, stopping just at the foot of his throne. Goggron’s eye widened as he felt his hardened length unceremoniously clasped. She really wanted to believe that she was only doing this to show up that wretched Nyssa and how _perfect_ she was. The haze of her ever-growing arousal was becoming difficult to resist, seemingly driving her actions with every second. Still, the remaining rational part of Morgana’s brain admitted that she considered it a victory if she could satisfy a king better than that pompous demon could.

Her hands grasped his considerable shaft. While his skin was indeed harder than flesh and bone, Goggron’s physiology held a strange softness to it. His clay-like body acted as much similar to how skin did, much to Morgana’s pleasure. With an intense gaze, she pumped him, watching whatever interjection the king was planning on giving die in his…throat? Did he even have a throat? It didn’t matter anyhow.

Morgana innately moved her hands in slow, teasing movements. Her fingers worked around his erection almost like a professional. Blasted succubus slut instinct. Her grabby hands went for the heavy sac below his dick, carefully rubbing and caressing it. Goggron made a sound falling somewhere between surprise and approval.

The witch hated relying on her succubus instincts. Knowledge of seemingly every imaginable way to please both male and female alike was plaguing her mind. It felt…dirty. As though Morgana was becoming more and more whorish by the second.

For whatever inexplicable reason, her inner hussy instructed her to wrap her breasts around him. A not-so-small part of her felt pride at how he arched his back the mere second her perky mounds made contact. She held him within her cleavage, using her tits to pump him with ease. Morgana bet that _Nyssa_ didn’t have as much leverage with her boobs as she did.

Why was she _proud_ of that?

The golem king groaned, gripping the arms of his throne in intense bliss. Morgana was certain she was satisfying him better than that harlot could. Enticing possibilities of how the king could return the favor flipped through her mind, the best of them involving the monster of a cock being squeezed within her chest.

She could feel him, throbbing at her touch, a clear sign that he was inching dangerously close to the edge. Her movements came to an abrupt halt, with her hand grasping the head of Goggron’s length. “Not so fast there, your highness.” She said with a devious grin and dominant tone she seemingly pulled out of nowhere. The king writhed with his rocky palms all but crushing the armrests of his very throne, seemingly hanging by a mere thread as Morgana restrained him.

…He really was pretty close, wasn’t he?

She was starting to wonder just how much her gripping of his tip was actually holding his climax at bay. His shaft hadn’t stopped twitching and his eye squinted, seemingly unable to focus anywhere but the ceiling Morgana’s lips slowly curled into a nervous frown. Perhaps she should be letting go now…

Morgana held her breath. The _last_ thing she needed right now was cum in her fur or anywhere near her hair. Cautiously, she released him, looking as though he was holding back the most powerfully earthshaking climax imaginable. Was she really that good? There was no way she could have forced a golem – the _king_ of all golems – into a reeling mess.

“Uhhh,” Morgana chimed quietly, “are-are you gonna be al-“

In a matter of seconds, her vision was filled with white. Dense clumps of sticky essence spewed directly to the witch’s face. Textured, thick, muddy essence. Goggron didn’t merely ejaculate. He _flowed_. Splattering his spunk towards the unfortunate succubus. Morgana was quick enough to shut her eyes in time. She was almost certain that the first volley would’ve caused her to go blind.

Her fur on the other hand…

Hands couldn’t shield her and neither could her flimsy tail. Goggron drenched her from the waist up in one sitting. And with that soak came the one thing Morgana hated the most in this world:

Sticky fur.

The king sighed in satisfaction, as though a tremendous weight lifted from his shoulders. His eye finally refocused back to reality. “Much better…” he hummed to himself before his gaze fell on the now white blob standing at his throne. His fingers placed on his nonexistent mouth like a child having just accidentally made a mess. “Perhaps…I was more pent up than I thought.”

“ _YOU THINK_?!”

Goggron awkwardly cleared his throat, trying not to meet Morgana’s visibly (sort of) angered gaze. “My apologies, lust demon-”

“-Not a lust demon.” She wiped whatever she could from her face, attempting to shake the excess from her hands.

The king sighed heavily. “I really did need that.” He suddenly rose from his throne, stretching his arms and back with seemingly renewed vigor. “I feel almost…energized!”

“Yeah, great story.” Morgana shook off what little cum she could. The sheer volume of it made for a magnet for her vulnerable fur. She almost felt as though her hair was _attracting_ it. “Now, if you have maybe a towel or some sandpaper or something then maybe we can get back to-“

“In fact,” the king interjected excitedly, “maybe I should try talking things over with my wife!”

“Huzzahwhatnow?”

“I haven’t felt this energetic in weeks!” Before the dumbfounded witch could process the turn of events, the king had already made for the door. “This was exactly what I needed!”

Morgana’s eye twitched. Her legs almost buckled under a newfound weight suddenly pulling her down. “B-But…but what about m-“

“I thank you succubus. Now I possess the drive to reconcile with my precious queen!” Morgana’s eyes bulged. She was quickly piecing together what was going to happen. She didn’t like it. And neither did her lower entrance.

“I return you to your dimension-”

“WAIT HOLD ON A SECOND!” She panicked as she felt the familiar presence of a portal summoning behind her. “HANG ON MY LOINS ARE BURNING HOTTER THAN A GODDAMNED FURNACE DON’T SEND ME BACK YET-“

“-with my thanks and sincerest gratitude.”

With a snap of his fingers, she was back in her home.

Wet.

Sticky.

And unforgivably _horny._


	3. Vampires "Suck"

_Your 1:00 appointment._

The nasal receptionist voice rang in her head conveniently after she managed to get the stink of spooge out of her fur.

Lovely.

That disappointment of a client was still fresh in her memory. All that size and girth and Morgana didn’t even get to jump his bones like the degenerate this succubus transformation was forcing her to be – keyword: _forcing_. That stupid golem queen owes her big-time.

Taking a glance at the list tossed on her counter, Morgana found her next patron’s name resting below the angrily crossed out golem king’s:

“Belial the Bloodletter.” Her eyebrow raised. “What kind of crazy shit are you into, Nyssa?” A friendly average Joe merely looking to satiate his reasonable sexual appetite was universes away from the picture such a name painted. Morgana shuddered at the thought of having to explain to him that his fling for tonight had to take a raincheck. Was she really desperate enough to attempt the horizontal tango someone referred to as the “Bloodletter”?

The burning fire between her legs seemed to answer the question for her.

Morgana stepped forward to the portal, pausing merely to ensure that her pesky tail didn’t have any ulterior motives this time. As the witch strut through to the other side, she was met with a bright and ominous moon looming above her.

Before her stood a gate blocking a long stone path leading to a large castle. The residence cast an eerie glow, using the moon almost entirely as a backdrop as it obscured almost everything in view.

_How…cliché._

Morgana marched along the stone path, silently thanking herself for bringing along her cloak. Her getup sure wasn’t going to do any favors against the windy night air. The door was an aged oak with a metallic grill of a macabre design. She couldn’t move in any direction without noticing the decorative stone gargoyles standing watch on either side of the entrance. Her eyes rolled. This Belial seemed to be keen on ensuring that overkill was maintained. Before Morgana’s hand could reach for the handle, the door had mysteriously creaked opened _on its own_.

“Banal.” She scoffed.

The inside of the castle was overselling it even further; gothic furniture, angular stone pillars, self-lighting torches on the wall. Most individuals would get the message and head for the hills asap. The only message Morgana received was “ _gaudy_ ”.

She walked down the spacious halls, following the guiding blue wisps to their intended destination. Her ears twitched irritably from the sudden boom of an organ that probably anyone within a 5-mile radius could pick up. As she ventured further, she discovered the source of the resounding symphony.

A caped figure resided within the expansive walls of the castle’s library. His fingers nimbly crafted an eerie tune with the pipe organ’s keys, seemingly lost in its melody. The witch gazed at how profoundly he fashioned his music. The way his arms moved to suit was powerful, as though the instrument was a delicate thread requiring a trained and practiced hand to sew its product. With the amount of passion he poured into his arrangement, he could possibly play for hours.

Morgana didn’t have that kind of time.

She grabbed hold of the door behind her, reeling back slightly before slamming it closed. The figure flinched at the abrupt sound, his fingers landing on a sour note. He turned to the source of the interruption, the only light within the library coming from the window above him. Moonlight shone over his unnerving silhouette as he menacingly rose from his chair.

He stood a good few heads above Morgana, even from so far away. A pair of pointed ears protruded from his head with only red menacing eyes being the sole detail she was able to make out. Morgana hardly saw when the figure shot forward from the darkness, now looming in front of her in an instant. The succubus craned her neck upwards to meet his face, his features still obscured from the eerie blackness.

His low voice slid from his mouth like a knife from a fresh wound. “Good evening dear _Nyssa_. I had not heard you ent-”

“Not Nyssa.” Thank god. “Filling in for a shift.” Against her will. “Kinda in a rush and would rather get on with it please.”

“…What?”

The shadowy figure’s eyes blinked before scrutinizing her closely. His hand snaked from his cape and snapped his fingers.

“Augh! Fuck!” Morgana swore as her unadjusted sight was attacked by the torches’ bursting light flooding the room. Who puts torches in a _library_? “I take it you’re Belial?” She inquired, shielding her sensitive eyes.

The figure only chuckled. As her vision finally adjusted, she was able to further discern the rest of his form. Morgana was partially surprised to discover that he was a vampire _bat_ , his pointed nose and muzzle contrasting significantly from her more rounder shape. His fur was a far darker shade of black, no doubt making him even more indistinguishable from the shadows that clung to him. He wore lavish clothes underneath his cloak, closely resembling his race’s namesake.

“Indeed I am,” Belial chuckled lowly, curiously circling around her. Morgana felt his eyes run along her body, especially at the section of her front that her own cloak didn’t hide. She didn’t know why she subconsciously opened her cape further. “Miss…?”

“Morgana…” She deadpanned unenthusiastically.

“Ah, _Morgana_ …” Belial repeated, rolling the name breathily from his tongue as he preyed around her intently. “You are far from what I was expecting tonight.”

The succubus bat narrowed her eyes. “…What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I had called for the playful minx, Nyssa, hoping to allow her feminine wiles to amuse me,” Morgana’s eyes rolled so hard, her head almost circled, “and yet another lovely woman arrives in her pl-“

“Yeah whatever, can we get on with this? There’s a campfire going on down here right now.”

Belial continued to stare at her, clearly enamored. His attention was brought to her horns and tail to which a sly grin plastered across his face. “I see you have committed yourself to a…stable line of work.”

“Uhh no? Wha-No! I’m just-this was against my-“

Her frustrated explanation halted as Belial boldly seized her, locking her into a tango pose. His face was only inches away from her’s, locked in this sudden romantic union. “There is no shame in it, my dear.” He grinned suavely, revealing razor-sharp fangs that could rend through flesh like paper. “Allow me to treat and pamper you like none other before me has done-HRRK!!”

Now it was Morgana’s turn to interrupt. A forceful hand broke the impromptu contact between them, seizing the hem of his shirt with an impatient pull. Belial was met with a face of pure anger and frustration that wordlessly demanded one thing of him: _shut up_.

“Listen here you _bloodsucking rat with wings_ ,” she seethed through her teeth, “I am virtually **seconds** away from shoving my own tail up my pussy just to get the aching to stop. The skankiest of all skankbags just astoundingly popped into my life tonight and decided that I had to take over for whoring herself for a living and now I’m stuck with the world’s smallest active volcano going off between my legs. I’ve already had to take an oversized money shot to the face from a golem only to get denied at the very last second and I’ve had to spend over an hour bleaching my fur from it. I am _beyond_ not in the mood for fancy dinners or dates or any romantic nonsense you _think_ is gonna interest me. I am going to _ravish_ you senseless to the floor within the next three seconds and you are going to **_deal with it_**. **_Understand_**?”

“B-But, I was going to set a candlelit banquet and-“

“I’M A SEX DEMON NOT A GODDAMN PRINCESS! NOW SHUT IT AND _DESTROY ME_!!”

Belial’s very soul was gazed by her malignant stare. The witch’s eyes burned with anger and frustration hotter than the deepest pits of any hell imaginable. Morgana’s palms gripped his shirt with such force that the vampire was certain she was going to rip his entire ensemble in two. No one had ever spoken to him with such…boldness. Such gall.

It was the biggest turn on he’d ever experienced.

“…Yes, Ma’am.” The Bloodletter squeaked meekly.

“ _Good_.” Was all Morgana said before crashing her lips against his, shoving her tongue past his lips. The lingering taste of iron stuck to her taste buds but she didn’t care. Sharp fangs would brush against her tongue, threatening to draw blood at the slightest poke but _she didn’t care._ Once she removed herself from his face, she grinned with the visage of a psychopath, drool spittling down the side of her face but _she just. Did. Not. Care._

Morgana pinned Belial to the floor, leaving him with no possible chance of escape. Against her backside, she felt the vampire bat’s erection poking against her. Its mere touch was enough to make her nethers leak harder than a faucet. With an impressive feat of strength, she _tore_ through Belial’s pants, not even allowing him to interject as his equally impressive length was revealed to the open air.

Finally. _Finally,_ after hours of this cruel sexual torment, Morgana would be able to settle the figurative oven burning in her legs. She excitedly aligned her opening with his cock. Just the mere tip touching her was enough to send quakes through her lower abdomen. She was so _close_. Just a small push downwards and-

“BELIAL!”

Morgana froze in place. She registered a thunderous slam from the door, along with the sound of rattling chains and angered roaring circulating from behind. She turned her head to meet another dark figure – why was everyone just wearing black tonight? – standing before the doorway. The torch he held in his hand partially illuminated his appearance; yet another bat only with a long coat and what appeared to be hunting gear.

 _Vampire_ hunting gear.

With every fiber of her being, Morgana hoped – she _prayed_ that whoever this stranger was, he was miraculously referring to any other Belial than the one currently moments away from fucking her raw.

 “I’ve come for your head, monster! Tonight, you pay for the lives you’ve taken!”

She never could get nice things could she? “Uh yeah, I’m kind of _using_ his head at the moment?”

Even worse, Belial seemed to completely forget the situation he was in. “The vampire hunter returns! What a surprise!” Morgana didn’t at all like the excited grin across his face. “Come for more, I see!”

Morgana nearly broke into a cold sweat. She turned to Belial with a glance halfway between anger and pleading. He wouldn’t seriously do that to her, would he? As she’s virtually a second away from-

“ _Have at you_!”

Not even a minute passed before the poor witch was left on the floor, unsatiated. Belial had tackled the hunter past the door and into the engulfing dark hallways, instigating a vicious brawl between the two adversaries.

…At least Morgana assumed it was a brawl.

Grunts and echoes of their scuffle continued to reach her ears.

Loud…expressive grunts.

“You think yourself fit to _outlast_ me?!”

There was a tearing sound. Weren’t Belial’s pants ripped?

“Monster! Feel the fullness of my lust for revenge!”

It went on longer than she anticipated, with either side apparently gaining the upper hand on the other only to be outplayed in return. Morgana frowned. Her nethers ached almost mockingly, her inability to do anything about it leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Surely, there was some hope that the vampire would return from what she _hoped_ was an intense battle and resume their session – Hell, she would even take the hunter if he was horny enough and not covered in blood...or any other bodily fluids.

The noises subsiding to a distant echo had suggested otherwise.

_Fuck._


	4. Virgin Tales

Morgana spiraled into a vicious cycle.

One that she had never once in her life thought she’d ever experience.

False starts.

Interruptions.

She’s been stood up _twice_ so far.

The unattended burning in her core was driving Morgana insane. Nyssa’s list thinned out one by one as the witch’s ongoing quest to quell the incessant aching was hindered at every turn. And with each failed session, she felt her willpower being drained ever so slowly.

As another session went down under, Morgana found herself back in her home, face down on the floor in both frustration and defeat. Under her breath, she cursed Nyssa’s black frostbitten soul.

Not long after, the portal and telepathic nasal receptionist signaled her next patron.

Was she really going to do this again? The last one wasn’t even looking for sex. She just ended up sampling erotic fiction for the better half of 2 hours. The very _image_ of steamy, unfiltered, raw _sex_ was burned into her brain and there was _nothing_ she could do about it.

Then again, what was the alternative?

Summoning what little remnants of willpower she had left, Morgana approached the portal. Her heat persisted like an engorged mosquito, flying close enough to agitate her yet always seemingly out of swatting reach. Her panties – or whatever that cloth covering her decency was – were sure to be so soaked that she was leaving a river trail wherever she went.

Again, she glanced at the to-do list. At the very end of crossed out and angrily scribbled on names was the very last entry:

Ranaan.

That sounded…foreign.

Burning-Breaches-of-the-9-Hells foreign. _Wonderful_.

Morgana begrudgingly threw herself through the portal, almost certain that she was going to deal with some pompous demon tyrant looking for someone’s face to shove between his legs and call it a night.

As the scenery around her changed, Morgana was more than surprised to see that she wasn’t surrounded by fire and brimstone. She was met with a fairly average looking room; painted walls, a normal bed, wood flooring, and a stacked bookcase over to the side with a mix of notebooks, old looking tomes, and what seemed to be…novels?

There was a desk over to the side with what looked like a mock potion brewing set, much to her own surprise. The desk appeared to be quite used, with empty beakers and labeled jars of unknown materials. Whoever she was dealing with must have had an interest in alchemy. That said, she had yet to find her client.

Right until she turned around.

There was a short moment of silence as Morgana held eye contact with the stranger. Bespectacled eyes gazed at her in shock as though he had discovered the world’s most elusive cryptid in existence.

His odd skin was a dark purple-ish hue with messy hair of a misty white shade. He was nothing overtly representative of the race she surmised him to be, standing about a head shorter than Morgana was. He wasn’t flaunting off any sort of expensive latex outfit most demons had a fond attraction too – thank _god_ – possibly indicating he was not of any royal bloodline. It surprised her to find him in a simple turtleneck sweater, albeit a few sizes too large, and a pair of average pants. Demonic claw fingers peeked from his shirt’s sleeves and he hadn’t bothered to wear shoes.

“Um…” He shyly began with an awkward wave of his hand, “hi.”

“…Hi.” Morgana blinked blankly, unsure of why she decided to return his greeting with an equally awkward wave as his. “You Ranaan?”

He nodded a bit too quickly. “Yeah, that’s me! I’m…yeah.”

More awkward minutes passed by. Usually, by now, Morgana’s head would be unceremoniously gripped to his crotch while a splurge of expletives leaked out of his mouth. She was glad for the change of pace.

“Are-are you Nys-“

“ _No_.”

She had her answer memorized and ready to fire on command at this point. The question was practically burned into her mind with every time it was raised.

“Oh!” Ranaan replied curtly, seemingly intrigued. “I should’ve figured since you seem pretty mortal.”

“What, you got some demon detection sense or something?” Morgana scoffed with a biting sarcasm.

“Yes?”

“Oh…That-that’s actually a thing?” Ranaan opened his mouth to speak but her urges reminded her that she wasn’t here for a history lesson. “Actually you know what, I really don’t care.”

“How do you deal with the hyper sex drive? I thought it transfers to temporary succubi too.”

“I **_don’t_**.” Morgana hissed in contempt.

“Oh… _Oh._ ” The realization dawned on his face. “Well, you’re not alone at least! Incubi get those urges too!”

Morgana’s ears shot up instantly. Incubi? As in _incubi_ incubi? As in ‘sex drive off the scale’ incubi?? ‘ _Dicks so big they can split a person in two’_ incubi???

Ranaan scratched the back of his head as he opened his mouth to speak. “Um…since you’re here and I uhh… _summoned_ you…may-maybe I could…uuuhh.” He twiddled with his finger claws nervously. The response was edging off the tip of his tongue yet he struggled to spit it out much to the chagrin of the witch’s near enflamed hips. “Y-you know I could…possibly-“

Morgana frowned. Here it comes. He was going to make her do some humiliating bullshit just like every other oaf on Nyssa’s asinine list. A legitimate sex entity standing right in front of her during the _one_ time she actually needed to get fucked out of her mind only to walk out without so much as a finger in her-

“I could…fuck you?”

The fact that this innocent looking demon just swore wasn’t what caused her eyes to widen as large as dinner plates. She hadn’t even processed his sentence properly before she opened her mouth. “What?”

Ranaan seemingly panicked caught off guard by her intense stare. “I uhm-“

“Say that again.”

He stiffened, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I could… _fuck_ you.”

Morgana’s legs buckled from some unknown force, as though those specific words alone drove her to the point of orgasming. “A-again.”

“I could fuck you.” Still unnerved, he watched her slowly meander forward in a not at all attractive manner befitting her succubus form.

She placed her hands on Ranaan’s shoulders. Her face was flushed almost entirely red with her eyes glowing a lust-addled pink. Slight spittle leaked from the side of her mouth as she uttered the words-

“ _You’re damn right you are_.”

Lust had instantly motivated her into action. A mighty toss sent Ranaan atop his bed with Morgana soon pinning him down. Her ecstatic hands dove for the hem of his pants with the intent to rip-

“Wait! Wait a minute!”

“ _What_?” Morgana couldn’t stop herself from snarling impatiently. It took a considerable amount of willpower alone just to even hear out his command.

“B-Before we start, I have a confession to make.” Ranaan gulped anxiously, adjusting his glasses in an effort to make proper eye contact with her. “I don’t actually know how to please a woman.” He admitted shamefully. “I was sort of hoping that if I summoned a succubus then…you could teach me?”

Morgana’s brow raised. Teach him? _She_ barely knew what she was doing. She could think of all the crude, raunchy acts that men would crave – she had _sat through them all_ – but the idea of teaching someone how to please a _woman_ came…less clear to her.

_Suppose that’s what I get for not touching myself as much as I should._

“Uhh right…ok! I can do that! Absolutely!” She lied. The relief in his warm smile touched her with a pang of guilt as whatever she was about to “teach” him will possibly be the precursor to every awkward sexual encounter he will ever have.

“Alright so, obviously we start with foreplay,” she was certain that much was true. She spent a majority of the night _not_ receiving that. They both sat up, with Morgana sitting side-by-side at the edge of the bed with her patron. “Give me your hand.”

Ranaan placed his hand in her palm. She felt his unique fingers; almost like cloven hooves yet somehow smoother. From the back of her mind, Morgana instinctively led him to the inside of her panties where she began pressing his digits against her opening. Numerous futile attempts to please herself that way had failed yet something possessed her to attempt anyway.

She was not at all prepared for the sensation that followed.

“Oh wow, you’re umm,” he stopped himself as though he presumed what he was about to say would offend her. “…wet.”

As if electricity surged up along her very spine, the bat’s mouth curled into a euphoric smirk in seconds. For reasons that escaped her, fingers were finally starting to affect her libido. It was beyond her comprehension. She had spent minutes to hours between clients attempting to get herself off with zero results and yet somehow, her prayer was finally being answered. She wanted to believe it was a side effect of the affliction. It _had_ to be. Some sadistic failsafe to ensure that succubi were always craving for others to satisfy their desires rather than themselves. She understood why Nyssa needed a break.

Morgana still hated her guts with a passion fiercer than the monstrosities of the murkiest depths imaginable, but she understood.

“Yeah,” she strained while attempting to keep herself from moaning, “that’s supposed to happen.”

Following the same impulse, Morgana held her breath somewhat as she pressed his index finger past her lower lips. A slight shudder and sharp inhale of breath, Morgana briefly felt part of her soul slip out of her body; all while Ranaan curiously watched in curiosity. She twiddled Ranaan’s finger in tiny circles, allowing him to explore her entrance.

“Mmmhm~” she hummed. “Yeah, keep doing that.”

“I-If you say so.”

She released him, allowing the incubus to experiment freely. His smooth fingertip poked and prodded her pussy gently, sending wave after wave of gratifying pleasure along her entire body. This was all Morgana wanted. All she could’ve possibly asked for in the grueling hours of this unwilling commitment.

“Is this alright?”

A low groan escaped her lips. “Deeper, go deeper!” Ranaan followed her order, slipping his digit down to its base. Morgana gripped his hand again with a whine, twisting his wrist with his palm facing upwards. She felt _it_. “There! There! _Ooooh~right there_.” She cooed dreamily. “Do you feel that?”

Ranaan curiously slid his finger along the rough tissue, each motion eliciting shivers up and along her body. “I think so. Is that-”

“ _G-spot_ ,” Morgana explained in a breathy tone. “About two inches into the vagina, top side, a coarse bumpy texture that feels a bit different from the rest of the inner tissue. A couple strokes and you’ll _melt_.”

She hadn’t at all the _slightest_ clue how she knew that nor how she was able to say it while being fingered. Internally, she told herself not to dwell on it, rather focus on all the _lovely_ sensations running through her lower lips.

Eventually, Morgana lied on her back, having Ranaan freely hover above her. There was something cute about how nervous he was, his virgin hands merely reacting rather than leading. After the night she had, it was a more than welcome change.

Morgana’s other hand reached for his remaining arm, leading him to her breast. “Don’t forget to give the boobs attention.” Ranaan’s features reddened somewhat. A rare occurrence for a demon she thought. The witch had seen their wry, smug faces and their mischievous smirks but she had yet to see one _blush_. She liked it more than she cared to admit. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all!” He replied, embarrassed. “They’re just-they’re really…big. And soft too. It’s nice.” He unknowingly squeezed her nipple, coaxing out a small moan.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“O-Oh…”

“…But keep doing it anyway. In fact,” her arm reached for the back of his head, forcing his face to her other unattended mound, “I have something better you can do with that mouth.”

He was putty in her welcoming hands. His fingers were still firmly in her entrance as now his hand and face were attending to her bosom. They briefly held eye contact. Ranaan’s uncertain gaze reminded her that she was dealing with a novice.

“Well go on, give it a suck.”

Ranaan drew his head back, adjusting his glasses before focusing on Morgana’s rosy buds. She was…unprepared for the unique tongue that slithered out of his mouth. Forked, thin, _long_. Her degenerate mind suddenly craved an alternative.

“Actually,” Morgana clasped the sides of Ranaan’s head, her lips curling into a toothy grin, “change of plans.” She removed his fingers before guiding his face down to her dripping sex. It wasn’t long before Ranaan got the picture.

Morgana knew what was coming. She anticipated it fully yet she was still completely unprepared when the flexible muscle glided into her. Moans and shouts of approval gave from her mouth. Ranaan’s tongue – his lovely _beautiful_ tongue – slurped and sucked around her folds. He clumsily licked anywhere he could. Technique be damned with the glorious length he held.

“Go-o-o-o-o-o-od,” she whined. Her hands gripped his horns, keeping him firmly locked in place. Thankfully, they were good for something. Her clit, no doubt having remained plump and damp throughout her ordeals, eventually rubbed against his face.

A tug of his horns soon forced Ranaan above Morgana’s pussy. His tongue _slid_ out of her lips with a satisfying pop. While a part of her felt disappointed by the lack of stimulation, she knew what was to come would be just as gratifying.

“And now,” the witch began with a smirk, “the clit.”

“Oh! You mean the ‘flower’?”

“The what?”

“You know, ‘rose’? ‘Petals’?”

“What am I a plant?”

“That’s…usually what they call it.”

Morgana raised an eyebrow. “‘They’ being?”

Ranaan blushed again. “…Romance novels?”

“Oh. _Sweetie_.” She wanted to roll her eyes from how absolutely _dumb_ that sounded yet she couldn’t bring herself to. Not with that adorably virgin mind. Gingerly, she patted his head like a lovable goof. “That’s fucking idiotic.”

“…Oh.”

“Don’t make believe everything you read in that schlock. It’s a clit. Specifically, it’s a _clitoris_. Don’t call it a ‘bean’ or a ‘pink pearl’ or ‘button’ or whatever asinine titles those cheesy novelists concoct. It’s a goddamn _clit_.”

“Uhh…yes Ma’am?”

“Good.” She was more than likely ruining his innocence – assuming incubi could ever have any. Better her than some other sex-crazed she-demon. “Now open your mouth and suck on it.”

Ranaan curiously did as instructed, enclosing his lips around the swollen _clit_ and earning a hum of approval. He was locked in place by Morgana’s thick legs interlocking behind his head. Demonic fangs flashed from her grin.

With little to spur him on other than her euphoric hums and coos, the incubus kept going. Her balmy taste intensified. Ranaan’s tongue dove deeper into her folds, noting the hint of sweetness in her juices.

“‘Ow’th thith?”

Morgana snickered slightly from his lisp. His warm breath tickled her nethers as he spoke. “Deeper~” She sang jovially.

He seemingly sighed in frustrating, inadvertently sending even more euphoric heat to her pussy. Morgana merely savored the long overdue attention, biting her lip as she prepared for Ranaan to follow through on her order.

He did her one better.

The witch yelped in surprise as her lower body was shifted vertically. Her legs had been aimed upwards while essentially being held upside down. The back of her head rested on the mattress with her view now focused the mop of hair and glasses peeking between her legs.

Ranaan supported both of Morgana’s limbs on his shoulders, grasping her thick thighs and allowing his head now able to probe her more effectively. She doubly felt the difference.

“O-Oooooh _shit_! _Hoooo_ that’s fucking amazing.” She mewled. Her back began to shiver and her buttocks twitched. Hands gripped the bed sheets for dear life. Ranaan picked up the pace, spurred on by her panting and groans. She fought through that blasted succubus curse. The pressure had reached its breaking point, shunting out her orgasm inability. It felt as though every muscle in her body tensed up as she barrelled towards the finish line.

Morgana wasn’t a screamer but god _damn_ there was a first time for everything. She wasn’t sure if Ranaan had any neighbors or anything wherever they were but she was certain without a doubt that anyone from here to the high heavens heard her shriek. A solid minute of pure unfiltered euphoria that had waited an entire night until finally clawing its way out of her core. It was everything she could’ve dreamed of.

Another minute passed. At least Morgana assumed it was a minute. Her mind had registered temporarily blacking out for a very short amount of time. Enough for her frantic and confused partner to attempt fanning her awake.

“Miss Succubus?! Miss Succubus, are you ok?! Did-Did I do something wrong?!”

She gingerly silenced him with a chaste finger placed on his nose and her loopy smile. “Oh no. No, no, _no_.”

For the first time that night, she felt her mind regain some form of proper coherence. The fire in her loins quelled for a bit, leaving her refreshed if only for the moment. She sat up on Ranaan’s bed, the smallest sensation against her folds still sending slight tingles along her body. Upon glancing at the incubus, she could see that his face was all kinds of damp. His glasses were near falling off of his face and his hair somehow even more unkempt than it was before. Unquestionably her doing.

The witch’s contented appearance filled Ranaan with a sense of relief. He most likely didn’t even understand the intensity of torture she had suffered through. Not his fault really.

“So…I did good?”

“Very.” Morgana again patted the young demon’s head. She didn’t know why but she was really starting to grow fond of him. “In fact, maybe you’ve earned another tip of advice.”

Ranaan glanced at her inquisitively. “What mean by th-“

He hadn’t gotten to finish his sentence before his arms were seized and he was yanked forward. Morgana locked the demon in place so that he was hovering above her naked form. She was able to see him in his entirety; his messed up clothes to his disheveled head. Even more specifically, her eye caught the bulge residing in his half unbuttoned pants. Ranaan silently pieced together what she was intent on doing.

“Wait. Do you mean…?”

“Mhm.”

Still riding the debaucherous urges taking hold in her mind – at least willingly this time – Morgana’s grabby fingers glided towards Ranaan’s pants, fumbling with his belt before wrenching them down. Finally, he was exposed to her.

Whether it was due to the inherent succubus urges or just her natural impulses (which she would evidently deny), Morgana’s heat returned the very second she laid eyes on his hardened manhood. His length was more than modest considering his race. Being demons crafted with the inherent need to fuck anything with a pulse generally would require it. Morgana’s excited stare quickly earned an embarrassed look from Ranaan.

“You know you have to be the least depraved incubus I’ve ever met.” She said. “Why even bother with wanting to learn sex anyway? You don’t seem like the type who would run around sticking your dick in god knows where.”

“Ah…well.” He scratched his head searching for an answer. “Everyone in the underworld keeps telling me that I need to…have sex with people.”

“…And I take it you don’t want to?”

“It’s…” he paused a moment before answering. “It’s nice! But I kinda wanted to do something else with my long _long_ life.”

Morgana was beyond thankful that her succubus heat wasn’t urging her to jump his bones while they talked. “So then what do you wanna do?”

“I’ve taken an interest in alchemy actually!”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow raised curiously. That explained the amateur potion making spread at his desk and all of the books. He must have been entirely self-taught. Most incubi would never even condition themselves to read, let alone pursue the demanding profession of alchemy. She made a mental note to direct him to her shack when this was over.

“I admire your style, kid. You’ve got more taste than a majority of the nimrods I’ve had to deal with tonight.”

“I do? I…th-thanks!”

“We’re gonna have sex now.”

“Tha-oh,”

“Not to diminish your whole ‘do what you wanna do’ thing but ah,” Morgana poked the spot under her belly button, presumably where her arousal steadily grew.  

“No, it’s fine! I get it! Just,” he timidly fiddled with his claw fingers, completely betraying his demonic visage, “I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

Tenderly, Morgana grabbed either side of Ranaan’s face, adorably squishing his cheeks.

“ _I don’t care_.”

Ranaan flinched somewhat when she suddenly gripped his ass. He found himself being forced downward, directed so that he was hovering above her laying form. A palm greedily seized his manhood, stroking him slowly albeit with a dominant roughness. She positioned him above her entrance, already dripping with arousal.

Her breath was heated, not ragged but she shivered with excitement. They locked eyes for a moment, riding through the euphoric haze as Ranaan made the first thrust.

 _At_ _last_ , Morgana mentally cried as she felt the familiar prick at her loins. She threw her head back, ears twitching and tail spasming about as her eyes shut.

Not that she felt any _attachment_ to sex in any way. She was surely only enjoying it to satisfy the succubus blood running through her system, the witch reminded herself.

Tingles of heat flickered from within. Only the head of his cock had slipped inside before he unceremoniously paused.

Her eyes opened from the sudden lack of fucking. “What now?” She snapped impatiently.

“Isn’t there supposed to be like-“ the incubus awkwardly scratched. “Don’t-Don’t mortals have some sort of…barrier?”

“Some sort of-“ Her brain processed the inquiry but had yet to find an immediate response. It only seemed to beg her to question the specifics of demon intercourse. Do they just not have to worry about the hymen? “Lay off the romance novels. I’m certain whoever summons incubi won’t have one either.”

“So then you summoned one before?”

“What? No!”

“But how did you lose your-“

Annoyed, she silenced him with a finger. His naivete was admirable in its own right but Morgana still had her limits. “Okay, A: work on your sex talk and B: less talking more _fucking_.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ranaan continued at a snail’s pace, slipping his shaft into her wanting pussy second by second. An instruction for him to move faster would’ve come yet there was some joy to be had from the tenderness. With a slight yelp, she sensed his hips finally slap against her, signifying that he bottomed out.

Pangs of heat reached the succubus’s spine. Ranaan too groaned in pleasure when he leaned upwards. He held Morgana’s full hips against his waist, feelings of lust no doubt dripping with each ragged breath that slipped from his mouth. Curiously, she felt Ranaan’s demonic tail interlace with her’s. She almost blushed, her inherent demon mind processing the action as some form of flattery.

Careful strokes and pumps allowed Ranaan to find his rhythm. He followed the intervals of her grunts as if she were moaning a symphony. Morgana no longer felt like she was guiding him, rather letting the demon follow his base instincts. There was little to teach now. All they were doing now was _sex_.

Legs interlocked behind Ranaan, locking him closer to her. A wordless indication that he was to go nowhere. Hands clutched his buttocks, coaxing even more strength from the thrusts. Morgana could feel it; the spasms and twitching indicative of his impending orgasm. Through the heated panting and gasps, the witch glanced at Ranaan in the eye, as though she silently instructed him to hold off, just for as long as he was able.

She asserted herself with him, one hand squishing the cheeks of his face while the other maintained control of the force of his thrusts.

“How’re… _nnnhh…_ you holding up?” Morgana hardly managed between breaths.

“Eeeimb ohkkey.”

 Suppressing a titter, she smiled as she embraced him closer. Morgana forced his cock inside of her as deep as she could possibly go, spearing herself down to his hilt. Her back arched as her loins finally gave, driving her to her second orgasm that night.

“ _Uhhn! Aaaah! Shit!”_ The witch screamed at the top of her lungs, practically using his dick to shove away the carnal succubus urges for the second time. A new wave of exhaustion fell on her shoulders as she collapsed on the bed, taking her incubus’s limp body with her.

Ranaan hadn’t stopped clinging her comfortably soft form. He buried his face between the crevice of the larger bat’s chest. Despite her reaching her climax, he continued to move. He neared his limit of how much he could hold back from this wild ecstasy. Of that, Morgana was certain. Her succubus insight pounded in the back of her mind as Ranaan continued thrusting. “S-slower… _gentler_.”

He attempted to heed her advice, doing what he could to cushion the blows. The thrusts eventually dragged to a euphoric end. It wasn’t long until she started feeling the pulses. Spurt after spurt, Morgana counted them down –

_One. Two…Three…mmmFour…_

There was a different type of heat between her legs. With a final push, one last convulsion, Ranaan pumped his seed into her sensitive pussy.

The ragged breathing ultimately reached a fitting end. Ranaan collapsed on the spot next to her. Morgana’s body had objected to the loss of his warmth but had accepted the comforting afterglow. Again, her better judgment returned.

Just in time for her to register how sweaty and disgusting she was.

“Hoookay,” the witch hefted herself off the bed, “well that wasn’t shit.”

She briefly glanced at her demon partner, exhausted and just as sticky. No doubt he was drained, his muscles aching and his now softened member with no strength to go any more rounds (of which she was ~~distraught~~ thankful for).

“So, was that good enough instruction for you?”

Ranaan weakly chuckled. “…Very.”

“That what you wanted?”

He eyed her curiously, caught off guard from her question. His tail fetched his spectacles that adorned his face once more. “Well um…I guess? I mean, at least now nobody can make fun of me for being a…vir-virgin.”

Morgana shuddered to think of how aggravating the virgin status must be for beings made literally for sex. “Kay. Cool.” She shrugged dismissively. She turned to make tracks while her loins weren’t hot enough to melt icebergs but Ranaan stopped her.

“Wait! I ermm…I wanted to maybe ask you…” he quickly fell into a spiral, unable to properly speak without being impeded by anxious stammering and pauses.

Steadily reaching her limit of patience, Morgana interrupted. “You’re cute for a hellspawn, kid but there’s a limit to how cute the stammering gets. I’d really _really_ appreciate you getting to the point before I start leaving behind oceans here.”

With a deep breath, Ranaan swallowed.

“I…I never got your name.”

“Oh! Uhh shit.” Her eyes widened, realizing that somehow through that entire ordeal, she somehow had forgotten to clarify who she even was.

“Morgana. It’s Morgana.” She stated plainly. “Also you wouldn’t happen to need alchemist shit do you cause I run also run a shop and-“


	5. Epilogue

Nyssa took her sweet time materializing back to Morgana’s shop. She also decided to be even more of a pain in the ass about it than before.

“Hello, helloooo!” She greeted as bright as the morning sun did. Neither of which left Morgana feeling any less annoyed. The non-succubus reappeared, carrying tote bag after tote bag while dressed in what surely must have been an outfit priced half off for what little it covered. How was it possible that she could slut it up all she wanted and yet Morgana had to do all of the work?

“I see you clearly had important things to do.” The witch snipped.

“A girl needs a break every once in a while. You should consider it! Maybe next time, we could work on those droll rags you’ve always worn.”

Defensively tugging at the cloak she wore, she suppressed the urge to call her out on that rags comment. “ _Next_ time?”

“Well of course! And believe me, I am beyond appreciative of your charity, Momo. Really, it is _such_ a huge help. Really I just came by to hand you my schedule for tomor-“

“Yeah, no.”

“Beg pardon?”

The bat witch sneered. “You don’t honestly think I’d put myself through this humiliating bullshit after tonight do you?”

“Mmm, yes? Maybe?”

“No!”

Nyssa scoffed, rolling her eyes from behind her 500 Coin shades. “Really now, is that any way to treat an old girlfriend?”

Morgana chuckled dryly. “Cute lie. Did you get at the same place where they told you that dress was still in season?”

“ _Excuse_ me?!”

The screaming match began, lasting for a long, insult fueled minute before both parties just then noticed the glyph materializing at their feet. The two froze.

Morgana looked towards Nyssa in confusion but rather than looking just as confused, a fearful grimace was strewn across her face. From the otherworldly symbol, a feminine figure burst into existence in a flurry of flaming embers.

 _Oh great, more demons_.

As shown by the jagged horns, tail, and red skin, this new intruder was indeed a demon. Unlike most of the underworld denizens, this one was dressed in black business-like attire. Her jet black hair was tied into a neat and professional ponytail. Her body was beyond stunning, outshining Nyssa’s by a mile with her glorious bust and well-endowed curves. Any light that leaked into the room was seemingly absorbed by her square frame glasses, immediately becoming white blank plates with no eyes behind them. The mystery demon stood upright in the black high heels that exhibited her more than demonic looking feet. Among her many attracting features, nothing came close to capturing the same amount of attention as her pointed nose. A pyre of flame exhaled from her mouth as she spoke.

“ _Miss, Nyssa_.”

Morgana’s eyes perked in surprise from the mild twang of the familiar nasally voice.

“ _I see you’re in further disciplinary action._ ”

Nyssa paled to the bone. She dropped her bags in almost a fraction of a second as the woman unflinchingly glanced in her direction. “Pam! Uhh, this isn’t at all what it looks like!”

“Oh really? Because it seems to me that you’re slacking on the job **_again_**.” Pam’s commanding appearance was betrayed by her nasal drawl. She sounded much more like a chastising neighborhood housemother than an employee of a…

Wait, did Nyssa actually work for a company?

“…But I-“

“No buts, young lady! Especially for you!”

With a snap of her fingers, the office lady summoned a demonic rune beneath the terrified succubus. Her horns and tail returned, even her outfit replaced with the same showy outfit she wore before. Nyssa gave Morgana one final look of dread before plummeting into the unknown darkness below.

The witch was relieved to discover that her abhorrent succubus status was now revoked. The familiar wide-brimmed hat she wore was now once again atop her head, now with no potentially hat-ruining horns protruding from her head. The tail that seemingly had a mind of its own was now gone. Most importantly, the fire that had plagued between her legs for so long was now nothing but a memory. Morgana felt reprieve, even victory as she now no longer had an ultimatum draining her patience and her dignity. It was worth a celebratory sigh of relief. Now she was left with a new obstacle to face.

She had remained silent as the higher demon’s attention was now focused on her, approaching her with a strut that demanded authority.

“Uhh…” Morgana took a step backward.

Pam puffed smoke from her nose. She was two heads above Morgana in stature, staring directly below with her hidden eyes. From the angle that the witch stood from, the demon’s sizable bust partially eclipsed her chin.

She gave the witch a once-over. Upholding her professional posture, the demon cleared her throat before speaking.

“Well hi there, sweetie! So nice to meet you!” Pam’s daunting visage vanished entirely. The demon’s brimming smile shined just about as bright as the morning sun, somehow both confusing and annoying Morgana at the same time. “You must be the little miss Morgana that we’ve been hearing about.”

Morgana blinked stupidly. “Been…hearing about?”

“Well of course! You wouldn’t believe how many five star reviews House of Lilith Brothels has gotten! You’ve been such a huge talk on our hellsite on Infernalnet!”

“Wait-people are _talking_ about me?!”

“Well sure!” With a puff of flame, she summoned her phone (the latest hPhone model to boot). Mortified, Morgana stared in disbelief as she read the arrays of worded comments, all mentioning her name. The demon had remained ignorant of the witch’s plight. “And these were all from just one night! In fact,” Pam reached into the unbuttoned part of her button-up shirt, pulling out a card from between her cleavage, “I don’t suppose you’d be in the market for a job? We offer lifetime health benefits! Even for immortals!”

“ _No._ ” She deadpanned through her teeth.

Pam merely offered a candid smile. “Your loss, hon. The offer still stands if you ever reconsider.”

“I’ll keep that in mind…” Morgana rolled her eyes. “So what did you do to Nyssa?”

“Oh, I just sent her home on probation,”

The witch raised an eyebrow. That didn’t at all seem fair from the ordeal that she had gone thro-

“-while still under her natural succubus urges.”

…Oh.

_Oh._

“That works too I guess.”


End file.
